Dentention Can Change Your Life
by SpecsGlasses
Summary: What happens when all the loners of the school wind up in Saturday Morning Detention with one another for five months? Read and find out Slash, curses, angsty sits. later
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Tis a sad, sad world we live in where I can't own the Newsies.  
  
A/N: I have been wanting to write this story for about a year, but insane circumstances have prevented me from doing so.until now!! Haha, so I hope you guys like it.read and review please.  
  
Summary: You know those kids at your school? The loners, the drifters, the different ones? Well this is their story. Pay attention. Slash later, not telling you who yet cause then where's the point?! Oh and I enjoy to curse so.use your imagination.  
  
Prologue  
  
You knows those kids at school? The loners, ones without friends? Come on, I know for a fact you know what I'm talking about. You even use them for homework or favors sometimes. Occasionally you throw them a grin or a greeting. But then you just go back to ignoring them.  
  
Dude, I know you don't HATE them. You just don't talk to them without a reason. Did I accuse you something BAD? Because please tell me how. They're just observations.Correct observations.  
  
Calm down! It's an unwritten rule of High School that not everybody has a friend. Isn't it? Good excuse, quite clever, I'm glad I gave it to you.  
  
What's my problem? I have no problem. Yeah I'm sure. It just makes me sad when I see these kids walk around school, being ignored, alone.  
  
Yeah I have lunch too. What, sir with SPOT?! Dude, I don't feel THAT bad for them. I don't want to have my brains leak out of my ears. I really don't know who would be worse, Cowboy or Spot- my life would be in danger either way. Specs or Walking Mouth? Well either way my head would probably explode by all the stupid facts they'd be throwing.  
  
Seriously man.  
  
Don't take that, it looks like it's growing mold. Snitch or Racetrack? Yeah right, ever hear of attitude problems? Both have a major case. See, in that case it's THEIR faults nobody talks to them.  
  
It's crazy man.  
  
But look, Mush is sitting alone. See, that's sad. But he's too shy to talk to.or sit with. We have to have fun during lunch, don't we? I think that's our right bro. Right on.  
  
Oh look, there's that stupid one.Skittery, right? Yeah, he's tapping his foot and banging his hands against the table.can't sit still, can he? Strange.And look One Eye! Oh that's not what he's called? Kid Blink? Was One Eye politically Inncorrect? Look, he has his art stuff out even at LUNCH. Dude..just Dude.  
  
Why do you bring your own drinks? Cheap bastard. Over where? What are you talking about.Wait who the hell is that? A new kid? What's he doing HERE then, only Sophomores and Juniors have lunch this period..  
  
Hey Sarah, who's that kid? The one with blond hair and looks confused. Yeah.a new JUNIOR? What possessed him to transfer schools in the middle of his High School Career? Shut up, that didn't sound gay. You're gay man. Yes you are! Yours too! Hahaha.  
  
So anything interesting about him, Sarah? How do YOU know he knows how to speak Dutch? He told the Spanish class? Yes I'm eating that Will, get off! No YOU'RE the bitch. So anyway, what else? That's all? Another mute? Damn man!  
  
Shit, the period's almost over, I still have math to do.yeah I know, the second day of school and the bitch gave homework. I'll be right back.  
  
Hey, Specs!  
  
End  
  
Author's Notes: Yes, it's a short chapter because it's the prologue. Dudes, it'll get longer, I promise. Even if you don't like it ehhhh hahaha. Read Review and Restrain from Flames. Thank you 


	2. And so it begins

Fifth Period- Lunch  
  
Simon Hollows  
  
a.k.a  
  
The Bookworm  
  
I am convinced that High School is a torture device created by bitter men and women in hopes of seeing teenagers suffer, to cause them to turn out to be homicidal maniacs or power hungry bastards.  
  
I'm not bitter, really...well, I am but that's High School's fault.  
  
I was sitting at my usual table, reading The Inferno for the hundredth time when I felt his approach. Oh, another year, another year.  
  
"Hey Spe-Simon!" I looked up and flashed my "oh it's you how pleasant!" bullshit smile.  
  
"Hello Joseph," I said, pushing up my glasses. "How was your summer?"  
  
Joseph hooked his thumbs in his jeans and avoided making eye contact.  
  
"Fine, fine hey so dude did you do the math homework last night?"  
  
I kept my horribly fake smile plastered onto my face. Yes you bastard since I have no life I did inDEED do the homework!  
  
"Yes do you need it?" I know I am a loser, but I have learned to accept it and so should you.  
  
Joseph glanced up to make sure the Dean wasn't watching and abruptly shook his head yes. I sighed to myself as I took my homework out and stealthily handed it to him. He flashed me a quick, grateful smile and trotted away. I stared at his retreating back, watching him rejoin his friends- William, Sarah, Jonathon, Oscar and Morris. All of them popular.  
  
It wasn't so much the popularity that I wanted- it was just the friends. I mean, they had people to talk to at lunch whereas I had half of a bologna sandwich and The Inferno. Yay. Can you feel the sarcasm?  
  
I went back to reading and waiting, waiting for the bell to ring so I could go to Math...which means if I don't have my homework I'm screwed. Shit, he'll never finish copying it in time!  
  
Damnit, I'm going to have to talk to him.  
  
I got up from my table slowly, taking time to smash my brown paper bag and put my book away, hoping Joseph would come over in the meantime...of course it seemed he had forgotten about the homework and decided to amuse the table by randomly shouting strange words and sounds out.  
  
Oh haha it's so funny. Dumbasses.  
  
Oops that just slipped right out there.  
  
Ahem.  
  
"And ehhehehh we can do it because SHUTUPSHUTUP we will allllll sit DOWN!"  
  
Oh yes, this was amusing.  
  
The six idiots were slamming the table, laughing hard. Jonathon was laughing the hardest- he was always kissing up to Joseph and William.  
  
I stood at the end of the table and cleared my throat loudly.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
I shifted my backpack and coughed.  
  
I think they may all be deaf.  
  
I took off all my clothes, jumped on their table and began to dance.  
  
All right, I didn't do THAT.  
  
But I did "Accidentally" drop my 1000 page U.S. History book.  
  
Unfortunately it landed on my foot.  
  
"SHIT!" I yelled, bending forward. My foot holy mother of GOD OW OW OW!  
  
Well, it got their attention.  
  
"Are you all right?" Sarah asked, her voice dead.  
  
"Oh yea!" I wheezed, my eyes filling with those tears that come with pain. "Happens all the time."  
  
The table stared at me with the ever popular "We have to be nice to you because we're too lazy to do our homework" expressions etched on their faces.  
  
Oh go die.  
  
"Joseph, if you don't mind, may I have my homework back?" I awkwardly asked, straightening up.  
  
"Dude, I haven't finished copying it yet," he said pleasantly.  
  
"The bell is about to ring and I would appreciate it immensely if you would give me my homework back," I said, pushing my glasses up to the bridge of my nose.  
  
"One sec." Joseph rummaged through his bag and pulled out a pen and grimy sheet of paper. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as he began to copy, which was cue for the rest of the table to keep talking.  
  
I stood there, shifting from foot to foot, holding my textbook self- consciously in my arms. Nobody looked at me or asked me to sit. Oh, this was fun...  
  
Shoot me. I'll pay you.  
  
Joseph had finally finished copying and was handing me back my homework when-  
  
"And what is this?"  
  
I flinched, my hand outstretched to grab the loose-leaf. Instead it was snatched from Joseph by a hand in back of me. I turned around to see the Dean, Mr. Wiesel, staring at the paper as though it held the magical instructions on how to lose weight without moving and only eating what you want when you want.  
  
Shit.  
  
"So, it's only the second day of school and already caught cheating Simon!"  
  
Huh?  
  
"What?" How the hell was I the one cheating?!  
  
"You obviously plan on earning your grades this year by forcing Joe to do your homework!" Mr. Weisel looked very pleased with himself by reaching this conclusion.  
  
"But I-"  
  
"Do you know what this means?!" Mr. Weisel asked excitedly, waving the paper back and forth in a sort of insane frenzy.  
  
And they say I have no life.  
  
"Detention Hollows!!! Saturday Morning Detention for two months!"  
  
"WHAT?" I yelled, my temper snapping. "But I didn't-"  
  
"Three months!"  
  
"What the-"  
  
"Four months!"  
  
"But-"  
  
"FIVE!"  
  
I finally got the point and shut up, just as the bell rang. Mr. Wiesel filled out a pink detention slip, grinning madly. Joseph and his friends gathered their books and quietly made their way past me, avoiding eye contact.  
  
Mr. Weisel put the slip in my hand and walked away, practically skipping with glee.  
  
He still had my homework.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * Third Period- Lunch  
  
Francis Jack Kelly-Sullivan  
  
a.k.a  
  
Cowboy  
  
The "Bad" Boy  
  
Yeah, I'm bad, I'll admit it. I just like doing dangerous things, livin' on the edge and all that. Maybe that explains why I lit the cigarette in the bathroom.  
  
O.k, just hear me out before you judge me on this one. It seemed that the weather was just as pissed off at school starting as everybody else was. A.K.A it was raining. Hard. So we couldn't go out during lunch.  
  
Do you see where I'm going with this here?  
  
I NEEDED my friggin' cigarette!  
  
I felt like there was a rabid monkey on my back pounding my head with his half-eaten speed-laced banana!  
  
I'm not good without my cigarette.  
  
So during lunch I casually slipped into the boy's bathroom, took out my trusty friend and lit.  
  
Too bad I forgot about the fire alarm.  
  
DING DING DING  
  
You have to be kidding me.  
  
DING DING DINNNNNG!  
  
I tried getting rid of the cigarette, but...well, the toilet wasn't exactly flushable...  
  
I waved my arms around in circles, trying to clear the air from the smell and turned-  
  
Mr. Weisel, stood there, smiling his evil, cock-eyed smile. Oh hello.  
  
"Hey Weeze," I said in my best "I don't care" voice, crossing my arms. The fire alarm was still ringing, I heard people screaming and running outside and the cigarette was still burning next to me on the floor.  
  
Damn I felt dumb.  
  
"So Francis-"  
  
"Jack," I cut him off, still leaning in my best bad boy pose. "My name's Jack Mr. Weasel."  
  
"I've told ya a million times, the name's Weisel, MISER Wisel," said Weeze, crossing his arms- still looking happy mind you.  
  
"So FRANCIS, you were smoking inside the school building were you?"  
  
"No," I said, my face straight.  
  
The cigarette continued to burn.  
  
His smile widened. "Five months Detention."  
  
I shrugged. Like I had places to be after school...  
  
"Saturday MORNING."  
  
Oh helllll no.  
  
My mouth dropped open and I uncrossed my arms.  
  
"What are you...what did you WHAT?!"  
  
"For smoking inside a no smoking zone and lying to your superior," Weeze said, almost giddy.  
  
"You can't do this!" I yelled. JACKASS.  
  
"Oh, can't I?" he asked, cackling evilly. "Keep arguing and we'll make it al year!"  
  
I expected him to start skipping at any moment. Really, I did.  
  
"DAMNIT Weeze!" I said, slapping the bathroom stall.  
  
That just made Weasel laugh and leave the bathroom. I swear I saw him skip.  
  
I kicked the bathroom stall, creating a dent in my boot and a blinding pain shooting up my leg, causing me to hop around the stall, lose my balance and fall into the toilet. I sighed in defeat. Least it couldn't get any worse.  
  
Then the sprinklers went off.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * Fourth Period- American Literature 1  
  
Bryan P. Higgins  
  
A.K.A  
  
Racetrack  
  
The Smartass  
  
I hate fuckin' High School. I hate fuckin' people.  
  
But most of all, I hate fuckin' TEACHERS  
  
They stare at you with their all knowing bullshit attitudes and teach these things that you'll never need to know, make you write these essays about the meaning behind a friggin' poem written 100 years ago. Maybe there AIN'T no fucking reason! JESUS!  
  
"Bryan? Bryan!"  
  
I snapped out of dazed rant and raised my eyebrow at my American Literature teacher who, at the moment, had that oh to familiar "why aren't you locked on every word that I have just uttered from my holy mouth?!" face, which really didn't flatter her already ugly mug.  
  
"Have you been listening to anything I have just said?" she asked, her voice probably trying to be intimidating.  
  
Probably why she wasn't an actress.  
  
Well, that and the fact that she looked like a horse.  
  
"No," I answered calmly, cupping my chin in my hands.  
  
Her eyes widened and made that "Oh no you DIDN'T" look.  
  
"Well I simply cannot believe it. Bryan, how do you expect to pass this class if you don't pay attention when I am talking?"  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't listening. What did you say?"  
  
I heard the class snicker, but kept my eyes locked on hers.  
  
"Well I never I can't..."  
  
Stutter stutter blah blah blahhhh  
  
".how much do you want to bet you won't be passing this class?"  
  
"Now you're talking my language Miss. Larksen. How about fifty bucks? Though I have to warn you, the odds aren't really bent in your favor."  
  
The class snickered again and I could hear some people whispering now. Yeah, this was the only time they liked me, when I was being the smart dumbass.  
  
Wow, an oxymoron! (told you the odds weren't in her favor)  
  
"Bryan, I don't want a repeat of last year!"  
  
"There won't be one if you don't talk to me," I said smoothly.  
  
"Bryan, I am honestly getting very annoyed with you."  
  
"Believe me ma'am, the feeling's mutual."  
  
"Bryan!"  
  
"Miss. Larksen!"  
  
"Don't keep pushing me Bryan!"  
  
"But I haven't touched you."  
  
"Bryan!"  
  
"I don't want to be charged with sexual assault Miss, that's why I told you."  
  
"Bryan I am warning you..."  
  
"Oh I'm shakin'!"  
  
"THAT'S IT!" Miss Larksen threw the papers she was holding down, which just made the class laugh.  
  
My work here was done.  
  
"DETENTION!"  
  
I shrugged. Not like THAT hadn't happened before...  
  
"Saturday Morning!"  
  
Always happens...  
  
"For three months!"  
  
NOT THAT.  
  
"What the hell?!" Oh shit, did I say that out loud?  
  
"Four months."  
  
"Miss Larksen-"  
  
"One more smart alec reply-"  
  
"And you'll stop wearing pink?" Why the HELL did I say that?  
  
"FIVE MONTHS!"  
  
That finally shut me up. Five months of fucking Saturday Morning Detention?! WHAT THE FUCK?  
  
"Bryan, what did I just say?"  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * Sixth Period- Math B  
  
Mark Roberts  
  
A.K.A  
  
Skittery  
  
The Moron  
  
Dun Dun Dun DunnaDunnaDun Dun.  
  
Perfect. That sounded awesome.  
  
Too bad it was on a desk.  
  
Didn't stop me from tapping my feet.  
  
Wow, how strange was it that they were tapping out I hate school I hate school in perfect harmony? I think Mr. Vicinte realized it because he was staring at me with that annoyed math teacher look they're all required to learn before they can graduate math college or whatever they go to.  
  
You think I'm stupid but I'm not/ You just won't give me a shot/ I don't need this shit/ Just wait til my first big hit/then you'll know me/then you'll want me/then you'll KNOW how good I am.  
  
Pretty damn good.  
  
"Mr. Roberts, please refrain from making anymore noise and try to listen to what I'm saying." I looked at Mr. Vicinte's aggravated face, still bobbing my head.  
  
"Will you enlighten us with the answer?"  
  
I shook my head no, tapping my pencil.  
  
This stuff don't matter in the play of life/ Why should I care when there's somethin' else out there/ Just go away and leave me/ Go away and leave me with my knife.  
  
I am on FIRE  
  
Mr. Vicinte sighed exasperatedly. "Mr. Roberts, must I remind you that you're still a Junior because you failed math last term?  
  
"Math, English and Spanish," I said, my face burning. He didn't have to remind me in front of the entire class. Jackass.  
  
Mr. Vicinte shook his head and sighed. Again.  
  
"Mr. Roberts, I don't want to see you back in this class next year."  
  
My fingers started playing out Debussy's Clare de Lune on the rim of the desk as he continued with his "I'm only concerned for YOU" speech.  
  
"Did you do the homework last night?"  
  
I shook my head no, my fingers switching to Ragtime.  
  
"Mr. Roberts, homework helps you comprehend what has..."  
  
Dunna Dunna DunNa DunNA Dunna dunna DunNa DunNa Na bump bump Dunna Dunna DunNa DunNa Dunna dunna DunNa DunNa Na blink blink  
  
"Therefore, until you start doing homework, you'll have Saturday Morning Detention every Saturday."  
  
Bang.  
  
My hands stopped moving as I stared at him, open-mouthed. He had to be kidding! I never do homework! I'll be going to Saturday Morning Detention until I'm forty! If I'm lucky...  
  
Mr. Vicinte turned back to the board and began explaining something that I didn't pay attention to.  
  
I looked around at the class. My peers were all glancing at me then looking away quickly. A variety of pity, curiosity and laughter filled their faced when they looked at me.  
  
I just shrugged and pretended there was nothing wrong. I picked my pencil back up and started tapping out the theme to Friends.  
  
I didn't stop when I saw Mr. Vicinte look over at me. Hey, this was why they called me Skittery.  
  
* * * * * * * * * Sixth Period- American Literature 1  
  
Davin Simmons  
  
a.k.a  
  
Dutchy  
  
The New Boy  
  
Do you know how much is SUCKS to transfer school in the middle of High School? I was a Junior but I felt like a freshman...worse than a Freshman because the Freshmen were bonding together, making friends in a school where they were alone whereas I was just...alone. With a bunch of people who had been friends with one another for two YEARS.  
  
Oh, how I hated this school.  
  
And on top of pessimistic thoughts I was LATE. Fifteen minutes late to English. With Miss. Larksen.  
  
All I can say is not wonder why that woman's not married.  
  
I finally found the room and dashed in, interrupting something. Miss. Larksen turned to face me, annoyance clearly shown on her multi colored face.  
  
This wasn't going to be good.  
  
"And just where have you been young man?" she asked, putting her hands o n her hips.  
  
"I...I was just..."  
  
"Trying to CUT were you?!" she yelled, her cheeks turning pink...or maybe her face was just reflecting off her dress...  
  
"Wha...wha...no..." I stuttered some more, getting that embarrassed, burning feeling when you're being yelled at in front of a group of strangers.  
  
You know that feeling?  
  
"NOBODY CUTS MY CLASS!!!"  
  
I jumped, not expecting to hear full out yelling. She came walking over to me until she was standing an inch away from my face.  
  
"How dare YOU!" She screeched "you", causing me to jump again, only to trip forwards.  
  
Good News: I didn't fall!  
  
Bad News: Her breasts broke my fall.  
  
And yes, they are real.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * Seventh-Eighth Periods- The Hallway  
  
Bayard Conlon  
  
a.k.a  
  
Spot  
  
The Tough Guy  
  
When you have a name like Bayard, you sort of learn to be tough. Be tough or die, the pansy named kid's motto.  
  
You also learn to accept the fact you have no friends from the constant beatings. And the nickname they give you. Spot. Cause I never miss my mark.  
  
Fuck no.  
  
Yeah, I was thinking all this as I sat in the boy's bathroom, cutting American Literature. Makes me sick. Interpreting things was never my style, you know? I'm not one for looking at the meaning behind words. What's there is there.  
  
'Course I'm just saying that about words. Not people. Don't hold me accountable to THAT lie.  
  
The bell rang and I got up and stretched. Astronomy. The only good thing about school. Besides Law.  
  
Don't get me wrong. I'm sure High School is WONFERFUL- if you had friends.  
  
And a normal name.  
  
I blame my mother.  
  
Listen, I ain't sappy all right? And besides, who the hell wants friends? They only let ya down.  
  
I walked through the familiar hall, watching kids and teachers flinch and go out of their way to avoid me.  
  
Laughable morons.  
  
I was almost to Astronomy when I felt a tap from behind me. I turned around, putting my best "What?" expression on and almost choked.  
  
Miss Larksen, the crazed American Literature teacher, was standing there looking all "argh". Oh shitttttt.  
  
"Well Bayard, you know what I'm going to say."  
  
"When and how long?" I asked, purposely making it sound the way you sick bastards read it.  
  
"Five months, Saturday morning. Toodeeloo!" With that the bitch turned around on her pink heels and walked down the hall, leaving me to stare at her in disbelief.  
  
WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Eighth Period- Shakespeare  
  
Jacob Rivera  
  
a.k.a  
  
Snitch  
  
The Thief  
Life's a movie. So you act. All the time. It's the truth, even if you don't see it. Honestly, do you ever show your true self to the world, or do you have this personality you created that the world knows so they'll like you? Or hate you? Yeah you have, liar.  
  
That's what I was thinking, glaring at my Shakespeare class. They all pretended to worship Shakespeare and all know everything about him and his plays when they can't even read ionic pentameter correctly. Most of them've only read Romeo and Juliet. Bastards.  
  
Yeah I annoy easily and what?  
  
Mr. Denton was talking away, trying to get these morons interested in the genius that is Shakespeare.  
  
They knew NOTHING. It PISSES me off man!!  
  
"...and I have your quizzes from yesterday..."  
  
I perked up at that. Really? I thought I did well on that one. It was just a quiz he gave us to see if we read Othello, Much Ado About Nothing, A Midsummer's Night's Dream and A Comedy of Errors during the summer break. I LOVE those plays so I had practically memorized them SO I knew I got 100.  
  
Listen, I'm not the best student when it comes to math, science, history, foreign languages and occasionally English, so doing well on something, actually being GOOD at something, is a thrill for me. That's why what happened next pissed me off so fucking much.  
  
I got my wonderful 100 (probably the last one for a while), the bell rang and everybody got up to leave- I obviously being one of them.  
  
I was halfway to the door when I heard Mr. Denton call my name. Confused, I walked to his desk, along with Ruth Smith, the prettiest, smartest, most popular untalented girl who ever walked these school halls.  
  
Mr. Denton stared at us pointedly. Damn, his bow tie was giving me the creeps...I raised my eyebrows at him. It was last fucking period for the day and I had a date with my DVD player (I had just rented The Hours and Adaptation and was really just about bursting to watch them. Hey, that answers your question on why I'm so dumb! Partly...)  
  
So anyway, Denton just sighed a few times and finally began to talk.  
  
"I'm sorry that you have to be here Ruth, but this problem concerns you too." Seriously, what was the deal with the bow tie?  
  
He looked straight at me, "disappointment" in his eyes. What the HELL did he think I did?  
  
"Jacob, why did you cheat off Ruth's quiz paper?"  
  
My mouth snapped open. "WHAT?"  
  
Mr. Denton shook his head in an imitation of sorrow.  
  
"You know what I am talking about Jacob. Now, I may be new here, but I know what grades you are usually capable of achieving besides the fact that I have been informed of a mishap which you were so unfortunatley a part of."  
  
I felt my jaw tighten. I knew what he was talking about. Last year I was accused of stealing all this computer shit from the computer lab. They found all the crap in MY locker but I was FRAMED. They had no reason to believe me though, so I was suspended for a week (watched Spiderman, Edward Scissorhands, North by Northwest, Dead Poet's Society, Pulpfiction, Clerks, A Beautiful Mind, Jaws and Halloween 1-4 and Lord of the Rings).  
  
So now I'm Snitch. The kid nobody believe because hey, who would believe a thief? I would.  
  
Back to Denton.  
  
"So what?!" I yelled at Denton. "Just because of something I DIDN'T DO last year? Just because you've heard my grades are sh-crap? Where does that show I cheated off Ruth?!"  
  
Mr. Jackass remained unmoved. "Look, Jacob, the quiz required essay answers and you and Ruth have the exact same ones."  
  
Denton took my paper from my hands and held up Ruth's. Sure enough, every answer was the same down to the last word.  
  
SKANK WHORE!  
  
"Therefore, I must give you detention." My eyes snapped away from the identical tests to look back at Denton.  
  
"And I must insist you apologize to Ruth now."  
  
My eyes slid to her pale face, her pretty red lips turned downward. I knew she had cheated off me. Her black eyes wouldn't meet mine.  
  
"No," I hissed, throwing the word at her. "She should apologize to me!"  
  
I grabbed my test back from Denton and walked out the door, my test clutched in my hand.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * Period 8- Advanced Lab  
  
David Jacobs  
  
a.k.a  
  
The Walking Mouth  
  
"The Nerd"  
  
Honestly, if people just spent a tad bit more time on their education than watching rubbish on TV they would be just as smart as me. And they wouldn't have to bother me.  
  
I sighed as I mixed my carbon dioxide with my sodium glycerol, watching people follow sift out of the corner of my eye. I was tempted to mix it wrong which would cause the copier to get it wrong, causing a chain reaction throughout the entire class, one after another failing. But I didn't want purple skin.  
  
My eyes snuck to the wall clock. Three minutes until freedom. Yes, I'll admit that I enjoy school much more than the average student, but the first few days after summer vacation are so monotonous. At least I didn't have physical education today as full schedule started tomorrow. That's when I'd be having torture everyday, ninth period. Weight room. The only subject I had trouble passing...  
  
Believe me, I am not being conceited, but I am a genius. My IQ is 200 whereas normal is about 110.  
  
Because I am talented in the field of learning, I am ignored by my jealous peers. It's a simple cause and effect concept.  
  
I'm sorry, have I spoken too much? Well, I suppose that's why they call me the Walking Mouth.  
  
I finished my experiment and had my Lab Report passed around the class for viewing with the five minutes to spare. I leaned forward on my Lab able and closed my eyes. There had been no sleep the night before due to an experiment I had been working on- I had lost track of the time and found it was 6:00, just in time for Fred to get me up.  
  
Ringalingalingaling ringalingalingaling...  
  
Hmmm, that cell phone ring sounded like mine.  
  
Ringalingalingaling ringalingalingaling...  
  
Why wasn't anybody picking up?  
  
Ringalingalingaling ringalingalingaling...  
  
Oh my GOD it was mine!  
  
My eyes snapped open and I looked down at my bag, then to the teacher, Mr. Roosevelt, who look quite annoyed by the disruption.  
  
He began to walk down the rows of tables, though he eyes were fixed on my bag. Oh no nononononononononono  
  
He looked down at my bag, which hadn't terminated its endless ringing, and back at me, raising his eyebrows from behind his glasses.  
  
"Your phone's ringing," he said and, before I could stop him, he reached into my bag and pulled out my cell phone, proceeding to press the "ok" button and saying "Hello?"  
  
I don't own a high quality cell phone. In fact it's quite the opposite. Therefore, the entire class heard the following dialogue:  
  
Dad: DAVEY? Davey sweetie, is that you?  
  
Mr. Roosevelt: No, this is-  
  
Dad: Listen Davey, your doctors appointment has been moved back an hour so you have time to go home, shower and remember to scrub your privates!!  
  
Mr. Roosevelt: (laughter)  
  
Dad: Oh Davey, don't laugh, remember what Dr. Jay said last time about you stinking to high heaven! I have to go now baby, Freddy's picking up organic pizza for dinner tonight, all right? Kiss Kiss!!  
  
I felt my face burning and my body go hot. Everybody was outwardly laughing. I tweaked my nose a couple of times, trying not to look at anyone.  
  
The bell rang and students rushed past, eager to rendezvous with their friends and gossip about what just happened.  
  
My ears caught snatches of conversations:  
"Ooooh Davey!"  
  
"Stink to high heavens, wasn't that a laugh..."  
  
"Was that his mom or his dad?"  
  
"...sounded like a guy but said Fred..."  
  
"...only child..."  
  
I waited until all the students had left the room before daring to look up again. Mr. Roosevelt was staring at me, laugher hidden in his eyes. He pocketed my phone and leaned close to me.  
  
"According to new rules of the school, put in effect by assistant- principal Snyder, any student who's cell phone goes off during the class has Saturday morning Detention starting immediately."  
  
I was in shock. I had NEVER received detention before! That was for hooligans and intellectually challenged students!  
  
"How long?" I choked out, tweaking my nose a couple more times.  
  
"Five very long rings equal five months detention. Have a nice day Mr. Jacobs." He walked out the room, stopping only to pick up his briefcase, cane and put on the old-fashioned top hat he always wears. Then he was gone.  
  
And so was my dignity.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * Eighth Period- Art II  
  
Peter Brooks  
  
a.k.a  
  
Kid Blink  
  
The Disgruntled Artist  
  
Art is LIFE! Well, my life anyway. That and swimming. Damn, I wanted to impress you guys, but now you all think I'm strange. Well I am the strange one-eyed artistic one.  
  
Yes, I know why people don't hang out with me.  
  
So many thoughts like that cross my mind as I paint. I get lost in the colors, the life that I am creating with my hands. If I could run through the streets screaming ART IS LIFE I would.  
  
Which is one of the reasons I'm so unpopular.  
  
Well, that and my one eye.  
  
But that's beside the point.  
  
I was still painting, lost in my world when the bell rang. I didn't hear it so I continued bringing my masterpiece to life by turning to get more blue paint. Turned to my blind side. Didn't see the chair.  
  
To make a long story short, I wound up breaking twenty three jars of paint, three easels, all the linoleum blocks, all the plastic fruit and ruined somebody's' painting.  
  
Oh wait, that would be mine  
  
I'm not one for a lot of words so I'll spare you the details, but I got five month Saturday Morning Detention.  
  
And a broken picture.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * Seventh Period- Chemistry Lab  
  
Bradley C. Meyers  
  
a.k.a  
  
Mush  
  
The Shy Guy  
  
I knew they shouldn't've let me near those chemicals. Noooo, they said "Bradley, you just need to build up your confidence, work in groups blah blah BLAH."  
  
So it wasn't my fault! I warned them!  
  
I was writing down the answer to my problem when I thought I smelled something burning  
  
Just as though she read my thoughts, Sarah picked her head up and said "Something's burning."  
  
I looked around the room. What morn would forget to turn off their Bunsen burner?  
  
That would be me.  
  
Right next to my arm, a piece of paper had caught fire and was beginning to spread to my lab mate's notebook.  
  
Sarah let out a screech and knocked her chair over. The fire was spreading rapidly, but I froze- what could I do?  
  
"MUSH!" I turned at my familiar "name" to see Sarah staring at me in panic. "DO SOMETHING!"  
  
Of course that achieved nothing but more freezing.  
  
The whole class was screaming now and the fire alarm went off for the second time that day.  
  
I went into Broadway mind mode. What would Pippin do in a situation like this? Would he freeze? No! He would PUT OUT THE FIRE!  
  
So I grabbed a cup of water that had just happened to be sitting on the teacher's desk and poured it over the fire.  
  
Of course Sarah chose THEN to inform me that it was acid.  
  
In the end the teacher came back into the room and extinguished it, but the damage was done. Pouring acid over a fire is never a good thing.  
  
I was yelled at for about an hour, causing me to miss my Opera elective last period. I said nothing the entire time, mainly because I was scared, but I knew if I opened my mouth I would start crying. No, I didn't want that.  
  
I sang The Jets Song from Westside Story in my head, trying to block out the anger. It sort of worked too...  
  
In the end I got a call to my parents, one day in-house suspension, community service for a teacher (not science) an hour before and an hour after school and five months Saturday morning detention.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
END CHAPTER ONE  
  
::dies::  
  
I will NEVER write a chapter as long as that one EVER AGAIN...unless you liked it then I will. So, did you like it? Oh god, who made it to the end, it was song damn long...but anyway, I hope you people liked it ::crosses fingers and makes a face:: yes, it's going to be good, it is. I have confidence...::gets the song from the sound of music stuck in her head:: damnit! I have to stop talking now...ok, just read and review and tell me if I should continue. Bye.  
  
-!-Alarice-!- 


	3. Author's Note

AUTHORS NOTE- PLEASE READ  
  
DISCLAIMER: I am new to fanfiction.net...I don't even believe I have had my account for a full month. I had NEVER read Outkasts before I wrote my story and got all the reviews informing me that our two stories corresponded in a lot of ways. It was then I took the time to read it and yes, there are a lot of similarities in the first two chapters of our story, but I can assure all of you that it will change. I didn't mean to cause all this conflict between people on fanfiction. My story will be different.  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  
  
Lute is a PHENOMENAL author. I am sorry my story caused her so many problems. I am sorry that her friends thought that I was copying her, but I would never do something as disgusting as that. Plagiarism is horrible and I have always been against it.  
  
I would just like to clear a few other things up. My story is going to be sort of a continuation of The Breakfast Club- what would've happened if the movie went on.  
  
To the other reviewers who thought that Thumbsucker Snitch was egging her friends on or leading the flames, she wasn't. As soon as I was informed that my story seemed as though it was copying hers, I e-mailed her and let her know immediately. Her friends just felt like they were helping her out- they were just being friends. They still may hate me, I don't know, but I do understand where they were coming from.  
  
I would just like to say THANK YOU to all the reviewers who defended for me- Liams Kitten, Shakes1, Gummi Noose, Cotton Blossom, Lisa, Lydie, and Shocked. If you guys hadn't reviewed, I don't know what I might have done. It was so sweet of you all to support me, even though most of you don't know who I am in real life. Don't hold a grudge against Lute, which I'm sure none of you will. Don't hold a grudge against her friends either.  
  
Thank you to Nakia-Aidan Sun, Dakota-Jones, mushgrl13, Inquisitive and Soaker for reviewing my story normally and expressing your like for it so nicely. It was a real boost me up.  
  
And, of course, thank you Lute for being so understanding about the whole situation. 


	4. Detention

Disclaimer: I don't own the Newsies. I never read the Outkasts.  
  
A.N: Hope you guys like it...  
  
Detention- 8:03 A.M  
  
Davin Simmons  
  
a.k.a  
  
Dutchy  
  
Nine other guys were in the room when I arrived. Nine other guys with varying degrees of annoyance on their faces...three of which looked like they were going to kill someone...  
  
I stood in the doorway for a few minutes, trying to figure out where to sit- next to the one wearing a cowboy hat or the one drumming out Young and Hopeless out with two pencils...Oh decisions...  
  
"You seem to enjoy being late." I jumped slightly, hearing that familiar screeching voice that is Miss. Larksen come from behind me.  
  
She was glaring at me, temporarily blinding my eyes with her new outfit of neon pink on purple.  
  
"Go sit!" she snapped, pointing to a seat. I followed her finger mutely, avoiding looking at my fellow inmates.  
  
"Now," she said, trying very hard to be intimidating and failing. "You all know why you're here." She started walking about the semi-circle of desks, talking away some kid's deck of cards and slapping the pens away from the drumming boy. Don't worry, he kept the beat with his hands.  
  
"Hoodlums. Creating problems for the school! Each of you have FIVE MONTHS to think about what you did...with the exception of one who shall remain NAMELESS who may be coming here for the rest of his High School career!" she glared here which brought a snort out of a feminine looking boy.  
  
"You have four hours to sit here and reflect upon your horrible actions. No talking, no eye contact, no-"  
  
"Breathing?"  
  
"Any PROBlems," she said, pointedly staring at the boy she had taken the cards from "And I will make sure you're punished further. If anything's WRONG, I will make sure you're PUNISHED. If you even think about creating problems for anybody outside of this room I will make sure you are-"  
  
"Punished?"  
  
"NO MONKEY BUSSINESS!" And with that she turned on her stilettos, tripped and fell out the door.  
  
Cards shook his head. "Dumbass."  
  
We all sat and stared at one another. Well, Girly was kind of glaring and one terrified looking kid seemed amazingly interested with his shoes.  
  
Silence fell.  
  
Well, silence with the exception of the constant banging of pens to the rhythm of Only the Good Die Young.  
  
"Oh my GOD don't you ever shut UP?" It seemed as though Girly had already snapped.  
  
Drummer shook his head no and switched to Lithium.  
  
"JESUS!" I cowered in my seat...that little guy was scary...  
  
Er, I mean...yeah he really was though.  
  
"Five to one Spot kills Skittery, who's bettin'?" Cards' words were followed by "Nah, bust." Spot? Skittery...?  
  
"Shut up RACEtrack!" shouted the one called Spot, losing all feminine qualities (...well, most of them anyway) "Don't pretend it ain't botherin' you too."  
  
Racetrack (?!) raised an eyebrow at Spot and shrugged.  
  
"I guess some people are more irritable than others."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"You shut up."  
  
"It's a free country."  
  
"My fist up your ass should change your opinion."  
  
"Shut up!"  
"Both of you SHUT UP."  
  
"You shut up Cowboy!"  
  
I looked over to the boy who had decided to join the shut up game. He was the one wearing a cowboy hat, red bandanna and a pissed off expression on his face.  
  
I heard someone mutter next to me and looked. It was a dark haired guy with two huge front teeth. Cowboy's head snapped to him.  
  
"What was that, THIEF?"  
  
"First of all, if you're going to insult me, I'm SNITCH," he said sarcastically. "And I said I can't believe I'm going to be stuck here for five mother fucking months with you annoying bastards!"  
  
Silence again, except for a new rendition of Kryptonite.  
  
"SHUT UP SKITTERY!" shouted Spot, Racetrack and Jack at once.  
  
"Don't tell him to shut up!"  
  
"You shut up, Thief!"  
  
"SNITCH!!!"  
  
"Oh my GOD SHUT UP!"  
  
"How monotonous can we get."  
  
A new, dry voice added itself to the group, spoken by a handsome boy with tight, curly hair and glasses.  
  
"You shut up, Specs."  
  
"Only if you do it first."  
  
"I'LL NEVER SHUT UP!!!!"  
  
"Guys, if we don't tone it down Miss. Larksen'll come and get us into more trouble!"  
  
"Shut up Walking Mouth."  
  
A boy with dark, curled hair and big blue eyes glared at Cowboy. "I resent that nickname and would prefer it if you referred to me by my given name, David."  
  
Jack rolled his eyes at the ceiling and slumped down in his chair. "I need a cigarette."  
  
Spot snorted. "You mean a cancer stick?"  
  
"No, I mean a CIGARETTE."  
  
I rolled my eyes and put my head in my arms. I was stuck with a bunch of strangers who, apparently, had no real name and, by the looks of things, hated one another!  
  
Somebody put me out of my misery.  
  
"What Blondy, got a problem?"  
  
I shook my head without looking up to see who had spoken.  
  
Too scared.  
  
"Is that his name?"  
  
"I don't know, is Cowboy yours?"  
  
"You know what I mean, dumbass."  
  
"Fuck you."  
  
"Right back atcha."  
  
I felt somebody prod my back and turned my head. Doey brown eyes stared at me.  
  
"What's your nickname?" he asked softly, gaining attention from the dueling assholes.  
  
"Da...Davin," I stuttered out, surprised. Nobody at this God Forsaken school had spoken to me for a week...  
  
I heard a snort and turned to look at Skittery. "Think my name's funny?" I snapped, feeling my ears turn pink...yeah, it was...  
  
He nodded, still tapping something out with various body parts.  
  
"You don't have a nickname?" I turned to the Eye Patching wearing kid and shook my head no.  
"What are you, popular?" Spot asked with disgust. Another shake.  
  
"I'm new."  
  
"A FRESHman?"  
  
"No, Junior."  
  
"Why the hell'd you transfer High School in Junior year?"  
  
I shrugged, not wanting to tell these strangers my life story.  
  
"You assholes scared him," came the calm voice of Specs.  
  
I snapped my head up.  
  
"I'm not scared," I said defiantly.  
  
Spot glared at me and I jumped a little bit.  
  
Eye Patch shook his head. "People call me Kid Blink and I believe they call Shy Guy Mush."  
  
Mush nodded for confirmation, avoiding all possible eye contact.  
  
"I don't know those guys' real names, only nicknames. We got them because we're loners, the misfits-"  
  
Spot interrupted him.  
  
"Oh GOD I feel like we're in the Morning Club."  
  
"BREAKFAST Club, dumbass."  
  
"Whatever, that movie sucked AND swallowed."  
  
"No it didn't, it was one of the most original and-"  
  
"Boring?"  
  
"Shut up!"  
  
"You shut up!"  
  
"It's getting old!"  
  
"Oh mign god, ga ik deden," I muttered, pulling my head into my arms again. "Waarom niet houden zij enkel op, die ondraaglijke ezels." There was a silence in the room.  
  
"What the HELLLL did you just say?"  
  
I looked up to see nine pairs of eyes staring at me, some with open mouths.  
  
Talk about deer in the headlights.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Was that in English?"  
  
"...yes..."  
  
"No it wasn't."  
  
"That was Dutch, was it not?"  
  
Nine heads swerved towards David.  
  
"Y-yes...how did you know?"  
  
David shrugged. "It sounded like Dutch."  
  
"How the hell do YOU know Dutch?" asked Spot in disgust.  
  
David sighed. "First of all I never said I know Dutch, just that it sounded like it. And second of all, I'm a genius, remember? Always spitting out facts? WALKING MOUTH?"  
  
Spot just snorted and rolled his eyes.  
  
"You can speak Dutch?" a shy voice asked me. I looked over to see the Mush kid staring at me.  
  
I slowly nodded my head. "I was born in Holland...I came to America when I was twelve."  
  
"And now you're..."  
  
"Sixteen."  
  
"Why don't you got an accent?" Spot asked from across the room.  
  
"Have..." I heard Specs mutter, still "reading" his book.  
  
I shrugged. I don't know...I guess I adapted really well or something."  
  
"I heard your nickname."  
  
Everybody turned to look at Skittery, who had subsided his banging to a mere tapping of his foot.  
  
"You talk?" Racetrack asked sarcastically.  
  
Skittery chose to ignore him.  
  
"They called you Dutchy. Because they heard you tell the Spanish class you speak fluent Dutch."  
  
I shrugged. Hey, could be worse.  
  
I could've been Blondie...  
  
Detention 11:12 A.M  
  
Jacob Rivera  
  
a.k.a  
  
Snitch  
  
"Ugh, what the hell time is it?!"  
  
"Go get a watch."  
  
"How much longer?!"  
  
"Should've brought a book."  
  
"I'm bored enough already."  
  
"Fuck you."  
  
"No, fuck YOU!"  
  
I resisted the urge to band my head repeatedly against my desk into unconsciousness. Three hours later and it seemed the "shut up" game had turned into the "fuck you" game!  
  
I looked around at my fellow "criminals". Jack was fiddling with the edges of his bandanna, looking like he was going into nicotine withdrawal. Not a surprise as he was usually seem with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth...Racetrack had taken another pack of cards out and kept shuffling them, over and over, making almost as much noise as Skittery and causing Spot's eye to twitch. Mush looked like he was counting cracks in the floor while Dutchy seemed to enjoy the taste of his fingernails...disgusting...Kid Blink appeared to be sketching something and Spot was chewing his bottom lip...the kid really couldn't stand the noise...Specs was reading something, Walking Mouth was writing something and Skittery was STILL BANGING.  
  
Racetrack looked over at him. "Do you take requests?" he asked sarcastically, snapping his cards.  
  
To all of our surprises, Skittery calmly shook his head yes.  
  
Not to be left looking like a moron, Racetrack smirked and said "Baby Got Back."  
  
And to all our amazement, Baby Got Back...well, played...  
  
Racetrack's eyes widened.  
  
"Lose Yourself."  
  
Done.  
  
"Stacys Mom!"  
  
"Dude, that sucks," Kid Blink said, but Skittery played it anyway.  
  
"Don't You Forget About Me!" I shouted out. Everybody stared and I sighed. "The theme from the Breakfast Club? Hello?"  
  
And of course Skittery knew it.  
  
"The Anthem," shouted Spot.  
  
"You like Good Charlotte?"  
  
"Shut up."  
  
And he played it.  
  
So now everybody started in.  
  
"Far Away."  
  
"Calendar Hanged Itself!"  
  
"Heart Shaped Box!"  
  
"Strawberry Fields!"  
  
"Go Beatles!"  
  
"Yeah!"  
  
Skittery played everything perfectly and we actually forgot to hate each other for that last hour of detention.  
  
And when Miss. Larksen came to yell at us and tell us to go home, it seemed hard to leave.  
  
I mean, who could hate someone who plays Beatles as well as he...  
  
End Chapter Two  
  
A.N: Yeah, that was shorter than I expected and took me much longer than I thought it would to type...SO Detention Two next chapter, along with Mush/Blink, Specs/Dutchy yay. I hope you all keep reading...BYE  
  
-!-Alarice-!- 


	5. Anger

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies. I don't own the Breakfast Club. I never read Outkasts. And I don't own the essay idea, though I've had to write some in my life...  
  
Monday Afternoon  
  
Fifth Period- Lunch  
  
Bradley C. Meyers  
  
a.k.a  
  
Mush  
  
I sat at the end of my lunch table, pretending to be invisible. As usual, this wasn't hard...I was reading English- we were going to have a class discussion today and nobody ever called on me...then got mad when they didn't get full scores for class participation...  
  
I looked up from my ham sandwich to observe the lunchroom. That was the only thing about school anyway- watching people, studying their habits, picking up on them...see, being quiet's not all that bad, is it? Nobody notices you staring at them so they don't think you're a perverted freak.  
  
Mmmhmm, Sarah defiantly has a thing for Oscar and Morris doesn't notice...Ruth's pretending to have problems so her girlfriends can coo over her...attention freak...and wow, SHES not a virgin anymore...and it looks like Aaron's the culprit...  
  
As I was watching these people, Kid Blink walked by my table. My eyes stealthily (hopefully) followed him as he got on the lunch line and waited. Who knew somebody who wore an eyepatch could be that HOT? I guess it has something to do with pirates...  
  
Johnny Depp. Yum.  
  
I mean...  
  
Hi.  
  
SO!  
  
I saw Kid Blink get off the line and head towards my table. I quickly looked down, pretending to be interested eating my sandwich in equal bites.  
  
I must've looked like a moron.  
  
"Hey."  
  
I looked up, startled at the voice and met the eye of Kid Blink. Wow it would sound so much more dramatic if I knew his name...  
  
"Can I sit here?"  
  
I stared at him, frozen. Why was he talking to me?  
  
"Am I bothering you?"  
  
........  
  
"O.K, I'll just...go now..." Kid Blink slowly backed away from my table, his eyebrows raised. Was it my imagination...or did he look dejected?  
  
I continued staring at the spot where Blink had been standing, resisting the urge to down myself in my milk.  
  
What the hell was WRONG with me?  
  
Detention- 7:50 A.M  
  
Peter Brooks  
  
a.k.a  
  
Kid Blink  
  
Oh joy, another morning of Detention with the Opinionated Crew had dawned! Could you just FEEL the happiness RADIATING off my body?  
  
I'd rather be painting damnit.  
  
Or talking to a tree. Either really...  
  
I was first to arrive in the disgusting jail cell. My father had taken it upon himself to drive me this morning and had decided to give me a one-sided seminar discussion on college...  
  
"Peter you must begin to take your academics studies seriously. I don't know why you have to take TWO art classes rather than just ONE honestly! You should be taking LAB and CALCULUS and OTHER CLASSES THAT WILL RUIN YOUR ARTISTIC GENIUS AND HELP YOU GET A PRACTICAL BORING JOB THAT YOU WILL HAVE TO DO EVERY SINGLE DAY FOR THE REST OF YOUR MONOTONOUS MEANINGLESS LIFE!"  
  
Ok, no, but you get the point...I hope...  
  
Anyway, I was there ten minutes early, giving me the chance to put up my invisibility shields before the other guys came.  
  
Jack got there first, bringing the unappetizing aroma of cigarette smoke in with him. He sat down in the same seat he had chosen last week (the one closest to the door) and rubbed his forehead, apparently thinking about something realllll important.  
  
Probably how to rob a store without being seen.  
  
Specs came next, carrying nothing but a 500-page book. He walked quickly to the chair two seats away from Jack and began to read, adjusting his glasses.  
  
Snitch came in and sauntered to his seat, a neutral expression on his face. Dutchy walked in right behind him holding a yo-yo in his hand. He "yo-yoed" to his seat and continued doing so when he sat.  
  
Spot and Racetrack arrived at the same time. They both tried to come through the door simultaneously, neither letting the other pass. Even Specs looked up from his book to watch.  
  
Racetrack finally pushed Spot out of the way and made it through first, though he slipped and fell hard onto the floor. Spot walked past him, picking up the marble Race had tripped on.  
  
Mush walked in, his hands in the pockets of his denim jacket. He refused to make eye contact as he...I think RAN is the proper word...to his seat where he sat, staring at the floor.  
  
I sighed when I saw him, remembering the other day at lunch. Why hadn't he wanted me to sit with him? Nobody could be THAT shy...probably the one eye thing damnit...  
  
David or the Walking Mouth, whatever the kid was called came next, a HUGE backpack on his back. Honestly, he's so scrawny I don't know how he didn't fall over. What a nerd.  
  
Skittery was the last to join our happy family, walking across the room, bobbing his head to invisible music. As soon as he sat he took up the tune with his hands. It was like having a radio without the commercials. And the singing. And the music...ok so it wasn't really...I wish I had a point...  
  
Miss. Larksen walked into the room, practically glowing in her newest pink outfit, holding pens and paper...oh God this didn't look like it'd be fun...  
  
Detention- 8:03 A.M  
  
Simon Hollows  
  
a.k.a  
  
Specs  
  
"Today we're going to try something a tad bit different boys," Miss. Larksen said, walking around the room. She placed a piece of paper on each of our desks. "You're all going to write me an essay answering the following questions: How you wound up in detention, what you can do to correct your ways and how this experience will change you. Everyone has four hours to complete it so I expect it done by the time I come back."  
  
Racetrack raised his hand slowly, a smirk glued on his face. Miss. Larksen frowned but (stupidly) called on him anyway.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Do we have to?"  
  
"What?"  
  
Racetrack spoke slowly, as though he was explaining something to a baby.  
  
"Do. We. HAVE. To?"  
  
"Yes, of course you do."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I'm telling you to."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"In hopes of correcting your ways!"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because you might never succeed!!"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because...because I SAID SO!" Miss. Larksen finally snapped, throwing the pens she had been holding violently into the air.  
  
"OW MY EYE!" she screamed as one of the pens hit her.  
  
Racetrack and Spot snorted and Skittery banged his hands against the desk without changing his bored facial expression which just caused everybody to laugh.  
  
"Another month detention!" Well that sucked...  
  
And got us all to shut up.  
  
"But Miss-"  
  
"STOP IT!"  
  
"That ain't fair!"  
  
"ISN'T!"  
  
"MISS-!"  
  
"SHAAAASHHHHHHHH!" Miss. Larksen waved her arms around in a circle to "shush" us before continuing.  
  
"Thanks to Mr. Higgins here, you've ALL received an extra month of detention."  
  
Racetrack moved to talk but Spot threw something at his head.  
  
"AND!" Miss. Larksen continued, fire in her eyes "If I come back and you all haven't written a proper essay I will have you in Detention UNTIL SUMMER!"  
  
Miss. Larksen stomped out of the room and slammed the door shut on her dress.  
  
Everybody's eyes slowly shifted to glare at Racetrack who was sitting, acting as though nothing had happened.  
  
"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ASSHOLE?!"  
  
We should've all guessed it would be Spot who spoke first.  
  
Racetrack shrugged and took out his deck of cards.  
  
"She deserved it."  
  
"But now we're stuck in here for another month!" I shouted. Yeah I was annoyed and what?!  
  
"And I already can't take it in here for FOUR HOURS with NO BREAK," snapped Cowboy fingering his breast pocket, which probably contained his cigarettes.  
  
"Maybe you'll stop smoking now, eh COWboy?" Cowboy flipped Spot the birdie and Spot threw a pencil at his head.  
  
"Can't you keep your wiseass mouth SHUT?" Snitch yelled at Racetrack.  
  
"No."  
  
"WHY THE FUCK NOT?!"  
  
"Because that's what I am. A WISEASS, isn't that right?"  
  
"I bet that's how you got your ass in here, right?"  
  
"Fuck yeah!" yelled Racetrack, snapping his cards angrily. "People expect to see a wiseass so I give them one even though I wind up in detention for it! And you know what? I LIKE IT!"  
  
"What the hell's WRONG with you?"  
  
Everybody turned to look at David, open mouthed. Except Racetrack. No, Racetrack just narrowed his eyes dangerously.  
  
"What's wrong with me?" His voice was low and cold, sending shivers down my spine...this wasn't going to be good, was it?  
  
"You want to know. What's wrong. With me." Racetrack slammed his cards down and got up, slowly walking over to where the Walking Mouth was sitting.  
  
"I don't know kid, what IS wrong with me? Well, you're supposed to be smart. Why don't you tell me? You know what you all call me. I'm the gambler. Right? So there's a problem."  
  
He was standing right above David now, counting off problems on his fingers.  
  
"And I like to speak my mind, right? So there's another one. And I hate the teachers of this school so I like to give them a hard time. You counting kid? You keeping track?"  
  
Everybody was watching now- even Skittery had stopped drumming, the tension in the room was thick.  
  
Racetrack leaned onto David's desk, putting his on his hands so he was eye to eye with the kid.  
  
"That's what's wrong with me? Right? So you pretty much answered it yourself, didn't you? DIDN'T YOU?" He yelled into David's face, making him flinch.  
  
"Racetrack calm down..."  
  
"Come on, he didn't mean it..."  
  
"FUCK OFF!" Everybody jumped as Racetrack stood, his gaze sweeping the room.  
  
"None of you know SHIT about me!"  
  
The silence would've been deafening if Skittery hadn't started tapping something out with his fingers.  
  
"Don't ask what's wrong with me," he said turning around to go back to his desk. "Don't talk about me. Don't talk TO me."  
  
He walked past his desk, grabbing his cards on the way. He went to the teacher's desk in the corner of the room and sat there, his back facing us.  
  
Detention- 9:50 A.M  
  
Mark Roberts  
  
a.k.a  
  
Skittery  
  
Well, Racetrack's little outburst sure was a GREAT change of scene! I mean, why wouldn't we want to be informed that we were locked in a room with a PSYCHOPATH?  
  
This was just fantastic...  
  
Since these people can't be quiet for more than a minute, they had begun to talk. Now it was about that retarded essay...  
  
"Are any of you going to write it?"  
  
"I don't want to get in trouble..."  
  
"I just don't want ANOTHER month of detention..."  
  
"What did you do to get in here anyway?"  
  
Specs had asked Snitch who shrugged.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"How could you've done nothing and be here?"  
  
"I didn't do anything."  
  
"Pffft, you just don't want to tell us."  
  
"So what did you steal?"  
  
"Nothing!" Snitch glared at Spot. "I never stole anything in my life."  
  
Cowboy snorted and Snitch turned his gaze to him.  
  
"It's true! I was framed last year!"  
  
"Uh huh...then why're you here?"  
  
"Mr. Denton thought I cheated on a Shakespeare quiz he gave."  
  
Spot rolled his eyes.  
  
"WHAT?! It's TRUE!"  
  
"Who'd he think you cheat off of?"  
  
"Ruth Smith."  
  
Yeah I've cheated off her before...  
  
"So he put you in detention without evidence?"  
  
"Yup," said Snitch, clicking a pen he had taken out of his pocket. "He heard about the incident from last year..."  
  
Click click click click  
  
"And he knew about my grades..."  
  
Click click click click click click  
  
"And he knew what Ruth usually gets..."  
  
Clickclickclickclickclick  
  
"So you know he just ASSUMED-"  
  
"Dude, stop before you break the pen," I said, cutting Snitch off. Snitch looked down at his pen surprised.  
  
"Sorry," he murmured, now just spinning the pen around on his hand. He turned his attention to me. Damnit now I was going to have to talk.  
  
I continued drumming, pretending to be oblivious to everything else. "What did you do Skittery?"  
  
I shrugged, beating out the overture to Carmen. "No homework."  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"Didn't do homework."  
  
There was a pause. Boy do I know how to kill a conversation or WHAT?!  
  
Specs surprised me by continuing.  
  
"So you just didn't do homework."  
  
I nodded, playing Beethoven with my fingers. You know, talking's annoying. No. No conversation for me.  
  
Spot looked at me. "You're supposed to be a senior."  
  
I nodded again, keeping the same blank face on. The only things that showed my emotions were my fingers, playing feverently against the desk. Asshole's going to bring it up he's going to bring it up...  
  
"You're still a Junior, right?"  
  
Not going to say anything not going to say anything not going to-  
  
"So you're the dumb one."  
  
I took in a deep breath and felt my face tighten. "Yup."  
  
Spot laughed, pleased with himself.  
  
"And you're here because you beat the shit out of a little girl, right BAYARD?" I calmly said, my fingers ending Beethoven and moving to Debussy.  
  
Spot's eyes became hard.  
  
"Don't call me that."  
  
I shrugged and let the others take over.  
  
Detention- 10:15 A.M  
  
David Jacobs  
  
a.k.a  
  
Walking Mouth  
  
"You're name's Bayard?"  
  
Spot glared at Dutchy, who seemed scared he had spoken. "Yeah and yours is Davin. Shouldn't talk."  
  
He turned back to Skittery, who was still drumming. This wasn't going to be good, was it?  
  
"I cut Larsen's class. I don't know why she gave me five mother fucking months but she did. I don't beat up girls asshole."  
  
Skittery shrugged, still drumming out who the fuck knows anymore. "Just figured you wouldn't beat on anybody bigger'n you. Girls're about your size."  
  
Definitely not a good thing to say...  
  
"YOU THINK I CAN'T BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU?!"  
  
Skittery shrugged which only infuriated Spot further.  
  
"Why you mother fucker I'm going to-"  
  
"Don't you think we're in enough trouble?" I turned to look at Cowboy. He was just calmly staring at the two boys as though nothing horrible was about to happen. "If you start a fight then we'll all be here until we graduate and really, I don't want that. You guys understand?"  
  
"But he-"  
  
"Shut up Spot."  
  
"BUT-"  
  
"SPOT!"  
  
Spot glared at Cowboy and at Skittery. Wow if the phrase looks could kill were accurate...  
  
"Well what the fuck did you do Cowboy? Probably fighting too, weren't you?"  
  
Cowboy shook his head. "Nope. Just lit a cigarette in the bathroom. Caused the fire alarm to go off."  
  
"So THAT'S why we had a fire drill so late in the day!" Specs remarked. Cowboy looked confused.  
  
"No, that's why we had a fire drill third period," he said "I don't know why we had one seventh..."  
  
Mush squeaked and we turned to him. I had forgotten he was there...  
  
"Did you say something Mute?"  
  
"Mush."  
  
"That's what I said..."  
  
Mush widened his eyes and shook his head. Now why wouldn't he want to tell us why he had squeaked...  
  
Something clicked.  
  
"Mush, when precisely do you have lab?" I asked, trying to keep my voice in control.  
  
He mumbled something that was incoherent.  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"He said seventh."  
  
"YOU'RE THE REASON ONE OF THE LABS IS DESTROYED!" I shouted, surprising myself. That was the GOOD lab, it was HIM?  
  
Mush looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a truck.  
  
"You set the lab on fire?"  
  
"Too cool!"  
  
"No, now we have no place to work with acid!"  
  
"Stop ragging on him Mouth, he didn't do it on purpose!"  
  
"See, I don't deserve to be in detention!" I said, louder than I had wanted. "My cell phone just went off in class, I didn't destroy a lab!"  
  
Dutchy looked at me strangely at that sentence. What did I say?  
  
"You're the one whose cell went off during lab?"  
  
I stiffened, remembering what exactly had been heard when the phone had been answered.  
  
"That was a strange conversation, wasn't it?" Dutchy continued, playing with his yo-yo.  
  
I just looked down, refusing to make eye contact.  
  
There was an awkward silence...except Skittery was playing something who knows what I only listen to classical...  
  
"I broke 1,000 dollars worth of art equipment."  
  
I looked up at Kid Blink who sort of winked at me...or he blinked, not really sure...  
  
"How the HELL did you accomplish that?"  
  
He shrugged, smiling bitterly.  
  
"I guess people forget I'm blind in one eye or something because they just put chairs where I can't see them."  
  
"So you tripped over a chair and..."  
  
"Caused a chain reaction of destroying everything from canvas to plastic fruit."  
  
Kid Blink nodded. I'm not sure why he nodded, but he did.  
  
"Your turn," he said, looking at Specs.  
  
"I just let Joseph copy my homework. Mr. Weisel thought I was making him do my homework and gave me Detention. I shouldn't be here either."  
  
Dutchy nodded "Me too, I was just late to Miss. Larksen's class!"  
  
A snort came from the teacher's desk. Oh joy, it appeared Racetrack had decided to rejoin us...  
  
"You know you did more than that Dutch-Boy."  
  
The tips of Dutchy's ears and his nose went red. "I don't know what you're talking about..."  
  
"You fell into her breasts nimwad."  
  
There was a general chuckle that went around the room and some more various parts of Dutchy's face went pink.  
  
"Not like I meant to or anything..." he muttered looking down.  
  
"Who would?" asked Specs and everybody laughed.  
  
It was unanimously true...  
  
Detention- 11:34 A.M  
  
Bryan P. Higgins  
  
a.k.a  
  
Racetrack  
  
I don't know if I made myself clear, but I wasn't in the best of moods. People were fucking pissing me off. I had had a rough night and then these Stereotypes were stereotyping ME? GOD DAMN...  
  
The talking had subsided. They were probably all writing their essays, little pansies. So afraid of a teacher, an insignificant TEACHER...  
  
Well Skittery wasn't doing any work. I knew this because he was still drumming. Yup, stillll drumming. Yeah, last week I hadn't cared at all...last week I thought Spot was a moron for losing his temper.  
  
Last week was fucking different.  
  
"How do you spell remarkable?"  
  
"R-E-M-A-R-C-"  
  
"No there's no C it's R-E-M-A-R-K"  
  
"No, it's a C, there's no K."  
  
"I'm telling you yes there is."  
  
"I think you've lost it."  
  
"I don't know, is there a dictionary?"  
  
"R-E-M-A-R K I know it has to be a K."  
  
Silence. Good I was just about to loose my  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"WHO THE FUCK CARES?!" I yelled, slamming the desk. I turned to look at THEM again, all with various degrees of who the hell knows anymore on their faces.  
  
"IT'S JUST A WORD! ONE MEANIGLESS WORD! She's not going to notice if it's spelled with a K or a C or a fucking Q! AND YOU!" I turned to Skittery who was in the middle of My Bloody Valentine. "STOP MOVING! It won't kill you BUT I JUST MIGHT! And how about this!" I said, unwilling to stop yelling. "We all just SHUT UP today and see if we can carry that out to NEXT week until all of our SIX fucking months are up! THEN we can go our separate ways and never see each other again so we ALL WIN!"  
  
A silence followed my rant and I went back to shuffling my cards. I hadn't thought it was possible, but Skittery had stopped moving again.  
  
"Bad day, Race?"  
  
I looked up to see who had dared to speak. I should've figured it would be SPOT.  
  
"Shut up Jackass," I said, looking back down at my cards.  
  
"None of us want to be here asshole."  
  
"No shit," I murmured.  
  
"What the hell's the matter with you today?"  
  
"None of your god damned business."  
  
"So you admit something's wrong."  
  
My back tightened. "Did I say that?"  
  
"Pretty much. By yelling the entire time we've been sitting here."  
  
I shook my head. "You wouldn't understand."  
  
"Says who? You?"  
  
"Yeah," I said. Suddenly though, I WANTED to tell them all WHY I was in such a bad mood, what exactly was wrong with me...why I had had such a bad night...  
  
Oh why the hell not...  
  
I opened my mouth to say when the door opened and Miss. Larksen stepped in.  
  
What were the odds of that happening...  
  
End Chapter  
  
A.N ooooh so something's wrong with Racetrack...Yeah cliffhanger wooo you're all going to hate me, aren't you? =X Don't worry, I'll have the next chapter up in a week. And I think it'll be funnier than this, I know it was really REALLY dramatic this time...I hope you all don't mind... Sorry it's taken so long for me to update this one, I've been busy and chairs have been falling on me and today...wow I don't want to get into today. I have a feeling you wouldn't believe me if I told you anyway...so I hope you guys liked it...I promise, something really good happens next chapter. OH sorry this chapters sort of long too...I hope I didn't lose you...ok done rambling, onto SHOUT OUTS:  
  
Nakia-Aidan Sun: Yes this is going to be Spot/Race too wooo I love them ahhh! I DO it's not sad right?! So see, I updated, now YOU update YOUR story and all will be right! YAY Thanks for reviewing, I love them.  
  
Dakota-Jones: You rock. You really do, I loved your review...Skittery loves you too because...well he just does man, he just DOES. I love your reviews...they make me happy that you're happy and you like the way it's written woo ::shakes a flag:: Yeah...thanks =D  
  
gypsy-morrigan: THANK YOU! I'm glad you love my story...I hope you like this chapter too woo that would be fun. Thanks for the review, it was really sweet.  
  
kellyanne: wow, you were BOUNCING?! Hehe YAY lol dude, you rock because you love Breakfast Club...it's so good...hehe essays hehe...yeah I stole that from them I'll admit it ITS IN THE DISCLAIMER MAN! Wel, I'm glad you liked it =D Keep reviewing!  
  
Obsessed Wit' Aaron Lohr: I know, why DO we all make Mush shy and naïve? I mean he's all MET THIS GOIL LAST NIGHT sporting a bare chest...I don't know, he just seems sort of shy...thanks for the review, love ya sweetie ::sends Mush to hug her::  
  
Liams Kitten: BAH you and your crazy muses! THEY'RE EVERYWHERE...at least no freaking Gollum this time ::shudders:: I'll sick Itey on you I will I will...hehehehehehAHAHAH I LOVEYOU! I hope you liked my chapter angelface McGee...hohoho...  
  
Chicago: Thanks =D I hope you liked this chapter too...keep reviewing, they make me smile and all my muses are happy too! WOOO  
  
Irish Rain: DUDE, ALL of your reviews were VERY appreciated...seriously, that was all so nice to say. I hope you continue liking my chapters haha...::HUGS:: woo couldn't help myself  
  
Stage: ::gasp:: YOU LIKE DUTCHY/SPECS TOO?! ::hugs:: My favorite too! DUDE YAY...I love you now I do...I'm glad you like the story =D keep reviewing please  
  
Chrissy Pen: YOU LIKE MY STORY! ::dances around:: I feel so special cause you're so talented and you love my story and I love yours and wow. And you love newsies and breakfast club and everythings so spiffy. Hehe I hope you keep reading...  
  
ShakesEE: Oh Shakes Shakes Shakes...I don't know what to say. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!! Your reviews are also so kickass and long and wow they are happy happy...THANK YOU A BILLION ZILLION times for your support and everything, love!  
  
Falco Conlon: Dude, you're so cool. I'm glad you said that thing about flamers...it was so nice thank YOU!!! I hope you like it, keep reviewing please! It would make me glad...hehe... 


	6. Discovery

Disclaimer: I don't own them there Newsies, I don't own The Breakfast Club, I never read Outkasts, I don't' own Samwise Gamgee...the world is an imperfect place.  
  
Dedication: This chapter's dedicated to Shakes because she had a sprained ankle and I felt bad. LOVE YA  
  
Saturday Afternoon- 12:30 P.M  
  
Simon Hollows  
  
a.k.a  
  
Specs  
  
I sighed as I left the school, breathing in the sweet October air. Going to Detention was like being stuck in a really bad Danielle Steel novel...minus the sex...so far.  
  
Not that I would KNOW.  
  
Uh...  
  
Yes.  
  
I scanned the parking lot, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose. My father should've been coming at any moment to pick me up so I could go home to read Atlas Shrugged in peace and quiet in order to fulfill the hours of life that I had before I could die.  
  
Which would hopefully be soon.  
  
Well, seemed to be running late.  
  
I sat on the stone steps that led up to Richard Henry Lee High, resting my head in my hands. Life sucks. Especially when you're running on three hours of sleep. No life, no friends, no sleep...  
  
Remember, I'm the bitter one.  
  
"Oh SHIT!"  
  
I turned my head to see Dutchy, ransacking his backpack. Books, paper, and yoyos fell out and rolled down the stairs.  
  
Since I had gotten up at seven in the fucking morning to be at detention for eight, my reaction time was a little bit slow, so I watched through heavy eyelids.  
  
Mmmm...he's hot...  
  
WOW where did that come from?  
  
I snapped my eyes the whole way open and shook my head fast, trying to clear it.  
  
Strange thoughts you have when you're half asleep!  
  
ANYWAY!  
  
I finally realized my sitting there, watching wasn't helping very much so I got up and walked on over, trying not to look like a complete moron.  
  
I heard him muttering in Dutch as I approached.  
  
"Having problems?"  
  
Dutchy yelped (he actually did, he yelped) and glanced up quickly, which caused him to lose his balance. He began to teeter on the stair. I grabbed his hand to keep him from falling.  
  
Such nice hands...  
  
"Sorry," I said as he straightened up. "I didn't mean to startle you."  
  
The tips of Dutchy's ears went pink and he shrugged, bending down to pick up his fallen books.  
  
Yeah real smart right there hey I ALMOST killed you but yeah I'm SORRY. I'm just a bowl full of WIT.  
  
I shook my head as I began to help him, picking up a yellow yo yo with green lightning bolts surrounding it. An awkward silence fell.  
  
Say something. SAY ANYthing.  
  
"So do you normally attack your backpack with such vehement force or did it misbehave?"  
  
Dutchy's nose turned red. "I lost my metro card," he mumbled, pouncing on papers which were in danger of being swept away by the wind. "I have no way of getting home or anything...that's why I was...and I...no my backpack's a good boy!" he blurted out, the rest of his face turning pink.  
  
I raised my eyebrows at him which just caused his face to turn a bright shade of red.  
  
It was really nice though...adorable even...  
  
WOW what?  
  
I looked down quickly, clearing my throat.  
  
"I'm sorry," I said, handing him a spiral notebook.  
  
Dutchy shrugged, shoving papers into his bag.  
  
Insert part two of awkward silence.  
  
"Hey," I said suddenly, an idea hitting my brain. "Where do you live?  
  
"Over on Bay Ridge." I shrugged. "It's on the way home, my dad can drop you off."  
  
Dutchy's eyes widened slightly and his mouth made the customary 'oh no, I couldn't' comments, but I cut him off, shaking my head.  
  
"It's no problem at all- we live over by there."  
  
Dutchy still looked hesitant so I searched my brain for a change of topic.  
  
Come on think THINK stupid brain  
  
"Do you like it here?" I asked lamely, pointing to the school. He shrugged shyly.  
  
"I don't really know...it's different than my old school."  
  
"Where'd you go?" I asked, sitting on the stairs to wait for father dear.  
  
To my surprise, the red that had disappeared from Dutchy's pale face returned and he looked down.  
  
What did I do NOW?  
  
"Uh...Saint Francis' Bleeding Heart...down on Shore Road."  
  
"Why'd you come to RHL then? There's nothing special about it or anything."  
  
Dutchy shrugged again, taking a yo yo out of his backpack.  
  
"This was really the only High School I could get into after Saint Frank. The education there SUCKED total ass so my grades were sixties and shit."  
  
He took a new yo yo out of his pocket. Leaning against the railing, he began to yo yo, his hands twitching slightly every time he threw it down.  
  
"Oh," I said. Real smooth like. Yeah.  
  
Silence stretched for several minutes while I thought of something to say.  
  
Why was this so HARD?  
  
Brilliance struck my mind.  
  
"Why'd you transfer then?"  
  
"Lousy education," Dutchy replied quickly. Too quickly.  
  
"How bad was it that it made you transfer to public?"  
  
Dutchy shrugged and yo yo-ed faster.  
  
Awkward silences are on my list of favorite things!  
  
Sarcasm kids.  
  
Let me just tell you- nothing prettier than a blond yo-yoing Dutchy boy.  
  
RIGHT think Specs, think like you've never thought before.  
  
Guys turn me on.  
  
WOW never thought that before...  
  
Saturday Afternoon 1:15 P.M  
  
Bradley C. Meyers  
  
a.k.a.  
  
Mush  
  
"Mom? Dad?"  
  
My voice seemed to echo off the perfect walls. Small and hollow, it bounced through the empty halls.  
  
I put my bag down and walked to living room and dining room to the kitchen.  
  
My mother was sitting at the table, looking immaculate as always. Every piece of glowing brown her hair was pulled away from her young, smooth face. She was looking through her papers, making notes or something.  
  
"Hi mama," I said softly, standing in the doorway. It took her a few minutes to look up from the table.  
  
"Oh. It's you."  
  
I bit my lip and looked at the floor.  
  
"Did you just get up?"  
  
I shook my head slowly.  
  
"No mama."  
  
"Oh." I felt her shrug as she began to shuffle her papers together.  
  
"I'm going out," she said abruptly.  
  
"When will you be back?" I asked, looking up. She was putting everything into her briefcase without looking at me.  
  
"Whenever," she said, snapping her locks shut. Her high heels made a clicking sound as she crossed the kitchen.  
  
"Where's daddy?" I asked, trying to get her to stay, to talk some more.  
  
"Japan. Left this morning."  
  
"I didn't know-"  
  
"Stop complaining."  
  
I followed her as she walked through the house to the front hall.  
  
"Is there anything to eat?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"Out."  
  
"Where?"  
  
She finally turned to face me.  
  
"Stop asking me pointless questions, I'm late already Christopher!"  
  
I felt tears begin to sting my eyes.  
  
"I'm Bradley, mama," I whispered softly.  
  
We stared at one another before she turned around.  
  
"Good bye," she said opening the door.  
  
And she was gone.  
  
Detention- 8:00 A.M.  
  
Davin Simmons  
  
a.k.a  
  
Dutchy  
  
YAY another session of Detention! FUN FUN FUN! Don't you all agree?  
  
I don't. Detention sucks. Even if Specs is there. I mean, it's not like I can DO anything but stare at his beautiful face, study every expression that came across his face as he read or pretended to read and wonder how he could make glasses look good while, on me, they made it look like I was a nose with a face...he probably wasn't even gay.  
  
Life's a bitch man.  
  
Anyway, we were all sitting in our usual semicircle of delinquents, warily eyeing Racetrack since you know, he completely SNAPPED last week...and it didn't look like his mood had improved during the week.  
  
Yeah this should defiantly be another fun gathering of Detention.  
  
Miss. Larksen came clicking into the room, looking ugly in pink, as always. She had that tightassed, pissed off, I-just-ate-a-whole-lemon-I- didn't-know-I-was-allergic-to face on.  
  
Didn't really do anything for her.  
  
"I have decided," she squawked "Not to give essays anymore as they will obviously not be taken seriously, but rather to extend Detention for an hour every week."  
  
WHAT THE HELL?  
  
"What the FUCK?!"  
  
"Language Mr. Higgins!"  
  
"I have work at one!"  
  
"I suppose you have to change your hours then Mr. Sullivan."  
  
"I have a dentist appointment!"  
  
"You should have thought of that consequence before you cheated Mr. Rivera.  
  
"This is bullshit!"  
  
"I SAID LANGUAGE!"  
  
"And I said bullshit, what's your point?"  
  
"BRYAN!"  
  
"Please Miss. Larksen, this isn't fair."  
  
Everybody's eyes slid to focus on Mush who seemed just as shocked he had spoken.  
  
Miss. Larksen turned to face Mush slowly and, for once, achieved a feeling of foreboding throughout the room.  
  
"Excuse me?" OOOh shit, this wasn't going to be good.  
  
"This isn't fair? Who said it had to be fair? Since when is LIFE fair?!" She started walking toward Mush, a look of insanity on her face.  
  
"You think you know everything, but you don't. You know NOTHING about the REAL world. What do you think the REAL world will do to you for blowing up a lab? Hmmm?" She had reached his desk by now and put her hands right on top of it. She bent down so she was eye to eye with a petrified Mush.  
  
"What kind of human being is stupid enough to pour acid over a FIRE anyway? How incredibly STUPID do you have to be to even comprehend something like that?!"  
  
"I...I didn't...didn't..."  
  
"Oh what Bradley?! You can't even DEFEND yourself? You're WORTHLESS, hopeless, a poor pitiful, MEANIGLESS excuse for a human being!"  
  
A shocked silence surrounded the room as Mush's face began to crumple, something which seemed to anger Miss. Larksen further.  
  
"Now you're going to CRY aren't you?! Cry all you want, see where THAT'LL get you in life kid! Especially since NOBODY cares about you! Nobody cares at all. How does that feel?"  
  
Mush refused to look into her eyes. He wasn't crying but his lower lip was trembling and his whole body was shaking.  
  
Anger flooded through my body. Where the HELL did she get off saying any of that shit?! Mush was the only person who never did anything to any of the other morons in detention.  
  
"ANSWER ME!" she screamed in his face.  
  
"SHUT UP can't you see you're scaring him?"  
  
I looked over at Snitch, his face red with anger.  
  
It appeared that I wasn't the only one pissed at Larksen's power trip.  
  
"SO WHAT? You're being a jackass!"  
  
"Conlon!"  
  
"You're full of shit, you know that?"  
  
"Mr. Sullivan, don't make me-"  
  
"What? You can't DO anything but make GOOD people feel like shit!" As soon as the words were out of my mouth, everybody else started shouting, overlapping one another so it was impossible to know who was saying what.  
  
"You're just lying to him."  
  
"Stupid bitch."  
  
"Mush is the nicest-"  
  
"-just SHY-"  
  
"-least confrontational-"  
  
"SHUT UP!" Miss. Larksen's screech got us all quiet, mainly due to shock. "None of you know what you're talking about! NONE OF YOU-"  
  
"What? None of us what Miss. Larksen?"  
  
Everybody stared at Skittery, who had been silent up until this point. Anger flared in his brown eyes, his whole body tense.  
  
Miss. Larksen looked lost for words as she looked at him. Luckily he didn't give her time to find them.  
  
"YOU'RE the one who doesn't know anything about our lives. How do you know what we go through everyday, forced into our own little worlds due to the generalizations people like you label us with? MUSH IS A GOOD PERSON. You can see that by just looking at him, by listening to what he has to say when he isn't TOO AFRAID TO SAY IT. It's people like YOU that make him how he is, that makes us how we all are! So shut up about everything you think you know. Because none of it's going to be right."  
  
A stony, dazed silence swept over the room, one which was void of all noise. Miss. Larksen's eyes were locked on Skittery's, who didn't blink or flinch under her gaze.  
  
We all waited to see what she would do. Her whole face began to twitch and she opened and closed her mouth a few times. I tensed my body and flinched, waiting for the eruption of screams which would escape lips.  
  
But it never came.  
  
To everybody's surprise, Miss. Larksen turned on her heal and practically ran out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.  
  
Detention- 8:15 A.M.  
  
Peter Brooks  
  
a.ka.  
  
Kid Blink  
  
My eye was immediately drawn to Mush as soon as the door closed. The poor boy was still sitting there, staring down at his hands with tears in his eyes. I couldn't bear to see such a good person to look like he was in such pain...  
  
"Yo Mush, you ok?" Apparently I wasn't the only person worried about him as Racetrack voiced my thoughts.  
  
He shrugged, and whispered "She's right you know. About everything she said about me."  
  
A snort came from Spot and he shook his head. "Damn man, weren't you listening to anything Skittery said? He's the one who's right."  
  
"I am hopeless," he whispered, voice cracking.  
  
"You're not hopeless at all," I said, surprising myself with the force I said it with. Well he looked so sad it was hard not to care...  
  
"I wouldn't have said anything if I didn't mean it man," Skittery said from his corner.  
  
Mush shook his head again, two tears beginning to drip down his face.  
  
"Don't listen to her Mush."  
  
"Come on Race is right, nothing she says is true!"  
  
It didn't look like he was listening to anything anybody else was saying, so I did the only thing I thought was right.  
  
I got up and hugged him.  
  
THE END  
  
A.N. GAH sorry this took so long and everything, but school's busy- my play's coming up and I've had nonstop rehearsals AND I was out of school for a week with the flu. Let's just say THAT wasn't a pretty sight. It really wasn't, hallucinations and whatnot, but I hey, I got the chapter up! I'm sorry this chapter isn't that great but it's one of those bridge chapters, more explanatory and everything...  
  
I'm sorry, I can't do shout outs because it's too late but I love love LOVE you ALL for reviewing and appreciate it sooooooo much. If I knew where you all lived I would deliver chocolate covered newsies to each and everyone OF YOU. THANK YOU. I hope you all liked this chapter. Sweet dreams and cotton monkeys!  
  
-!-Alarice-!- 


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